The Golden Goose
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: Twoshot. My Exit the Fly verse, 1987 series. Krang's attempt to use an alien golden goose statue to bring Earth to its knees backfires tremendously and tragically on everyone involved, including the Turtles.
1. Chapter 1

**Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1987**

 **The Golden Goose**

 **By Lucky_Ladybug**

 **Notes: The characters are not mine and the story, although based on the classic** _ **DuckTales**_ **two-parter, is mine! This is part of my** _ **Exit the Fly**_ **verse. Baxter is human and an ally of the Turtles. His brother Barney works for Shredder.**

 **Part One**

Krang's wild, gurgling laughter had been ringing through the Technodrome ever since the group had returned following the incident involving the alien crown at Channel 6. And with many of the giggles and cackles came flashes of golden light and the transformations of assorted junk into the precious metal. Krang was testing the strange golden goose that Bebop and Rocksteady had brought back from the mysterious alien spaceship in the ground. And testing, and testing. He couldn't seem to get enough of it.

"Krang!" Shredder finally said in exasperation. "If you don't look out, you're going to turn the entire Technodrome into gold and us along with it!"

Krang glowered at Shredder for interrupting his fun. "At least then you'd have _some_ value," he retorted.

"Gee, everything sure looks pretty," said Bebop as he admired the glistening walls, spare parts, and even Foot Soldiers. "But uh, how is this gonna help us bring the world to its' knees?"

"Yeah!" Rocksteady chimed in. "Are we gonna use all this gold to buy the world?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Krang snapped. "We're going to use this golden goose to turn Earth's most revered buildings and important resources into gold. We'll leave the people destitute and desperate so that they'll have to accept our rule to get us to change everything back."

" _Can_ we change it back?" Shredder looked doubtful.

"Of course," Krang shot back. "Once we get the antidote on the alien ship. It wouldn't be much fun ruling a golden world, after all. But there's no hurry to get it right away. Let's get everyone frightened out of their wits first."

"What if they don't accept your rule?" Barney spoke.

"Then they will suffer for it," Krang retorted. "But we'll get into that later."

"Why not now, Krang?" Shredder countered. "In fact, why don't you tell us the whole story behind this ugly duckling's mysterious ability? It's like a philosopher's stone or something."

"How do you know it isn't?" Krang grunted. "It was developed by the alien race that crashed in that spaceship. They were highly intelligent geese warlords and scientists."

"So that Vernon guy got possessed by a goose?" Bebop snarked.

"Considering all that he was doing, I wouldn't find it a laughing matter," said Barney. "But nor would I call it a possession."

"And these geese conquered worlds by going about things as you're planning to do?" Shredder asked Krang.

"Something like that," Krang scowled, seeming very vague indeed. "Now, I want Bebop and Rocksteady to go to the surface and start turning things into gold."

"Oooh! Oooh! Can we turn whatever we want into gold?" Rocksteady exclaimed.

"Whatever you want," Krang agreed. "As long as it's not us or the Technodrome." He handed the goose to Bebop. "You have to say 'Gold' while touching the beak to the object you're targeting for it to work."

"Say 'Gold,'" Bebop echoed, just as he accidentally touched the goose's beak to one of his wrist bands. In a flash, it was solid gold. "Whoops." He stared at it with goggle-eyed interest. "Hey, this is pretty neat!"

"If you hadn't been wearing that, you'd be gold now, you idiot," Krang snapped. "Barney, go with them and try to keep them from fouling up."

"I'd be more than happy to," Barney said with gleaming eyes. "I'd like to study this phenomenon and try to determine how it came to pass. Alchemists tried and failed for centuries to create the philosopher's stone."

"Why send him along?" Shredder groused. "He didn't defeat our enemies either."

"By that logic, I most certainly shouldn't send you," Krang retorted. "Besides, I want you here to help me monitor things."

Shredder stamped his foot. "You don't need me here to monitor things! You just don't want me to have any fun!"

"You know, we've dealt with children that weren't as childish as you," said Krang.

Barney smirked as he headed for a transport module with Bebop and Rocksteady. Ever since Shredder had turned against him, he found it delicious any time Krang put the man in his place. And at times like this, the term 'man' was used loosely.

He didn't bother to remember that he himself threw fits every bit as childish.

xxxx

"Boy, that was some adventure we just had, wasn't it?"

Leonardo glanced at Raphael while driving the Turtle Van through the darkened New York streets. "That's putting it mildly," he shot back. "I bet Vernon won't sleep for a week."

"I bet Baxter will," Michelangelo said. "He looked mondo exhausted when he stumbled out of Channel 6 to go home."

"Sleep is something we could all use right now," Raphael said firmly.

"No arguments there," said Leonardo. "I wonder what's going to happen to that alien room."

"And what else might be down there," Donatello added.

"We probably won't get much of a look now that the military's involved," Leonardo sighed. "I just hope they can handle it."

"Hey, they've been dealing with aliens a lot longer than we have," Raphael pointed out.

"But we've been dealing with a lot of mondo weird stuff lately in general," Michelangelo said. "And whenever we get downtime, it seems like Donatello just wants to work on figuring out that mysteriouso thing we brought back from the Floxy Theatre."

"Well, we should know what it is," Donatello defended.

"Sure, Dude, but can't you ever take time out when it doesn't involve even more technology and junk?" Michelangelo pleaded. "Why don't we all do something fun together before something else goes wrong?"

"Sounds great to me," said Raphael. "Who's up for a cruise to the Caribbean?"

"It wouldn't have to be that extravagant," Leonardo smiled. "But Michelangelo has a great point. We should plan a day to just enjoy being together. Just us and Master Splinter."

Michelangelo nodded. "No inventions, no bizarro spaceships, no Shredder causing trouble." He looked to Donatello. "What do you say, Donatello? Just one day off?"

"Well . . ." Donatello inwardly sighed. He really was anxious to keep uncovering the technological mysteries they were running into lately. But a day with everyone where nothing happened to ruin it did sound nice. "Okay," he smiled. "I'll take tomorrow off."

"Yes!" Michelangelo cheered, pumping his fist in the air. "You won't regret it, Dude."

 _I hope not,_ Donatello thought to himself.

xxxx

 _"Baxter? . . . Baxter, old buddy, wait. Don't forget me."_

Baxter started awake in his darkened bedroom and flew upright, his already-wild hair swooping forward against his face with the motion. For a moment he was lost in the mixture of dreams and memories left behind in his sleep state. Then, groaning, he slumped forward and rubbed at his eyes with his fingers.

He still found it strangely ironic that until recently, his only real friend in his life had been a computer. He had been most unimpressed by artificial intelligence before his transformation. Afterwards, he really hadn't been choosey. The computer had wanted to help him get what he wanted, and in his crazed state, that had been revenge. It had been patient with him no matter how his humanity had failed and Baxter had relied on it as his only friend . . . and his only source of intelligence at all, when his had begun to fail him. Having to have a computer think for him . . . what a disgrace.

Baxter wasn't even sure what had happened to it. He knew it had been on the Technodrome last, and the console it had been plugged into had exploded when Donatello had destroyed the screen, but did that mean the motherboard had died in the explosion?

No . . . no, it didn't. Motherboards didn't _die._ Not in the same way living things did, anyway.

It had seemed so alive, though. Maybe that was just his perspective from being half-fly and he wouldn't still think so as a complete human, but he had to wonder.

He had let it down in the end, hadn't he? He vaguely remembered flying off and leaving the communicator in the amusement park. That had been the last time he had even interacted with the computer, although it had tried to help him when the Turtles had prodded him back to the Technodrome. Then it had been supposedly destroyed and Baxter had ended up in another dimension until that fateful final time he had broke free and gone after the Turtles with Shredder's retro-mutagen ray gun.

He really had fallen far by that last time. He hadn't known the retro-mutagen ray gun had even existed until his last moments aboard the Technodrome during the second-to-last revenge trip. His attempt to get it for himself had failed. By the final time, he had stolen the rebuilt version not even thinking of using it on himself, but instead wanting to de-mutate the Turtles with it. And then Leonardo had managed to get him blasted with it, turning him human again at long last. . . .

He sighed and slumped back into the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Without the computer, he had been all alone on that final stretch in the other dimension and almost any remaining scraps of humanity he'd had left had faded away. It was amazing that he was as human and as sane as he was now, with only arachnophobia and sugar cravings as aftereffects.

"I'm sorry," he whispered aloud, and then scowled to realize he was addressing the computer. He hadn't been there to save it that last time. It hadn't called out to him as it had after the prior explosion that had left only the motherboard. It couldn't have; it was gone. And Baxter found himself feeling guilty and sad about that no matter how he tried to tell himself it hadn't really been alive.

He threw the covers over his head, willing the memories and the feelings to go away and let him sleep. But they did not seem about to cooperate. For some reason, the calamities of that night had brought the past to the forefront of his mind again. Maybe it had been in telling Vernon that he knew what it was like to have something trying to take over his body and mind. Now he couldn't push the memories of that time aside long enough to even get a decent sleep. According to the clock, he couldn't have slept for more than an hour.

He sat up again in exasperation. He had thought about the computer before; it would be impossible not to. But he had tried to be logical and tell himself that he couldn't think of something inanimate as a real friend. By trying to help him with his revenge, it had shown that its lack of humanity kept it from realizing that encouraging someone on a path of destruction was not something true friends would do. Then again, there were also humans who believed it was the right and honorable thing to do. Maybe the alien culture that the computer had hailed from had believed that too.

Finally he got out of bed and wandered over to the window. He stared out tiredly at the night sky and the towering buildings of the city. "I was half-fly, my only friend was a computer motherboard, and my brother hated everything about me," he muttered. "Not to mention my parents couldn't care less about either of us."

Feeling it was the right thing to do, and hoping maybe they did want to see him, he had eventually tried contacting them without success. He had been dreading a phone call or a letter from them ever since Vernon's report had made the announcement that he had been the giant fly terrorizing New York in the past. And then tonight, Barney had appeared in the Channel 6 studio and made it plain that he had aligned himself with Shredder and Krang. Baxter had tried to keep that fact out of the news before, but now the entire city would know. Their parents hadn't bothered to make contact with him after the report on him, but they might now that _this_ story had gone live.

Then again, maybe they would decide that it was better all around to stay as far away from their bizarrely wayward children as possible. Maybe now they were so mortified that they would wonder how to ever show their faces at their precious social gatherings. And of course, that was the most important thing for them.

Baxter sighed, his shoulders slumping. He had tried to hope and believe that Splinter was right when he had counseled Baxter that his parents likely did care, especially since they had made his trust available to him if he just came back from his mysterious absence. But he was increasingly sure that his assessment was right and they did not. Just as he had tried to push thoughts of the alien computer aside, he needed to push thoughts of his parents aside.

As for Barney, well, he would just have to keep hoping that his brother would decide that he was sick of being bad. He couldn't crowd his brother by trying to keep pushing him to change his mind. And more than likely, he would eventually have to fight his brother. He had already really started on that when he had been forced to go up against Barney's retooled version of Baxter's spider robot.

 _Nevermind ridiculous series like_ _ **The Simpsons**_ _,_ he thought bitterly to himself. _A series about_ _ **our**_ _dysfunctional family would make them look like Ozzie and Harriet._

He turned away from the window and shuffled back to bed. He would try again to focus on what he had rather than what he didn't have. His family might be shot, but he had friends. They would become his family. The Turtles and Splinter had proved that it was not necessary to be biologically related to be a family. They had welcomed him in and he was deeply moved.

Part of him wanted to talk to them tonight. But it was late and they were surely able to sleep better than he could. He didn't want to bother them. Times like this would be great for talking to the alien computer. It wouldn't be like talking to another living being, but it had enough artificial intelligence to make the conversation interesting. Certainly it would be better than being alone with his thoughts all night.

He scowled, passing a hand over his eyes. He didn't like to think that he only wanted the computer back as a matter of convenience for him. But could he look at the problem any other way when it wasn't alive and therefore couldn't be a real friend?

. . . Did something _have_ to be alive for that?

He groaned, slumping into the pillow. There would be no rest for a long time tonight. Especially if he kept fighting with himself like this. Part of him still genuinely liked the computer and missed it, and that was the part he was trying to quell. But maybe he should give up and simply accept the truth. He had sneered at the concept of artificial intelligence and had even been downright annoyed by it. But a computer had been his friend and there was really no way to say it hadn't been.

xxxx

Bebop and Rocksteady looked around excitedly as the transport module arrived on the surface and Barney opened the door.

"What should we do first?" Bebop mused.

"I know!" Rocksteady exclaimed. "Let's go turn all the police stations to gold!"

"But then you'll run the risk of the officers catching you," Barney objected. "Anyway, you're thinking too small. Try something monumental, something that will be seen throughout the city and instantly make everyone aware of the power we hold."

"What about the Empire State Building?" Bebop suggested.

"Perfect," Barney smirked.

The trio weaved through the streets toward the landmark in question. As usual, they were not bothered. Bebop and Rocksteady looked big enough and mean enough to keep the other riff-raff away. At least, Barney thought to himself, they were good for _something._

When they reached the building, Rocksteady took the goose and headed for the wall with a raucous cackle. "I'm gonna turn it gold!" he chanted, touching the beak to the ediface as he spoke the last word.

Immediately the Empire State Building changed colors.

"Wow, Rocksteady," Bebop said. "Here it is. New York has the most be-au-tiful monument in the country. Probably in the world!"

"Yeah!" Rocksteady grinned, bounding back over to them. "What now?"

"It won't take long for it to be noticed," Barney said. "We'll stay in the shadows and wait for a news crew to arrive. Then we'll patch them through to Krang and Mr. Shredder and they will deliver our ultimatum."

"Okay!" Bebop headed across the street. Rocksteady followed at a slower pace and walked backwards, still admiring the goose's work.

Barney regarded him in exasperation. "Come on, you fool! Someone will see you before they're supposed to!"

Almost as if in response, a blue-gray van turned the corner. Rocksteady leaped headfirst into the shadows to hide. The goose clunked to the ground behind him. Startled, he looked back over his shoulder. "Ooops."

Barney slapped his forehead. "You idiot!"

He was trying to quietly slip out of the shadows and take hold of the goose before he could be seen when the van stopped practically in front of him. He soon discovered, however, that the driver wasn't looking at him or the goose at all.

"Oh me, oh my. What happened to the Empire State Building?! I have to call Miss April. . . ."

Barney watched as the nervous driver fumbled for the two-way radio. "Miss April?" he mused to himself. Yes . . . the van was Channel 6. He smirked. That was too perfect. News of the golden building would be on the news within the half-hour.

"Dr. Stockman? What are you doing here?"

Barney jumped a mile. Then, eyes flashing, he turned back to the driver, who was leaning out of his door in confusion. "I am _not_ the Dr. Stockman you are thinking of!" he fumed. "I'm Dr. Barney Stockman! _Barney!_ "

The other man flinched. "Oh. Of-of course. I'm sorry, M-Mr. Barney, Sir." But then his attention was quickly diverted. "Wow, what's that?!" He got out of the van, diving for the goose at the same moment Barney did. But the driver got it first.

"Put that down!" Barney snapped. "You have no idea of the power you're holding in your hands!"

"It sure is ugly," the driver commented. "A really crabby goose. And it looks like it's made of gold!" He accidentally bumped the beak into the van's antenna as he spoke. In the next instant he was staring at a solid gold van. The goose slipped from his fingers and Barney caught it. "Oh wow. Oh . . . it turned the van to gold! That must be what happened to the Empire State Building too!"

"You catch on quickly," Barney said, his tone dark and cold. "Now, if you don't get back in your golden van and tell 'Miss April' about the golden Empire State Building, you will become its next target. Do I make myself clear?"

The nervous man's eyes widened. But instead of leaving, he frowned and stood his ground. "Say, what gives you the right to boss me around and threaten to turn me to gold?" he demanded. "Did you do that to the Empire State Building?!"

"No, but I know who did!" Barney snapped. "We both work for the same employer, and he has an important message for the city. Are you going to continue wasting time or are you going to get a news crew down here to hear it?"

"I think I'm going to take your goose!" was the reply. "If you're doing things like that, you shouldn't have it!"

That brought Bebop and Rocksteady into the open as well. "Oh yeah?" Rocksteady growled. "Are you gonna go up against us too, pipsqueak?"

"He'd better not, but we are!" came a new voice.

"Hey!" Bebop snorted. "It's the Turtles!" He pulled out his blaster.

"You'd better stand back, Mr. Blodgett," Leonardo advised Channel 6's driver. "This could get messy."

"I-I'd be glad to!" Blodgett exclaimed. He ran back to the van. "But be careful, Turtles! They've got a goose that can turn anything into gold!"

"Yeah, we saw the Empire State Building get a makeover when we were heading home just now," Raphael said, pulling out his sai. "So you've got a cute little goosey-woosey that can do all that for you?"

"That, and more!" Barney sneered.

"Then we'll just have to take it away from you before you can use it!" Leonardo cried.

Donatello lunged with his bo, aiming to knock the goose out of Barney's hands. Instead, Barney leaped aside and touched the beak to the staff. "Gold!"

Donatello's jaw dropped-as well as his arms. "Yipe!" He let go and the solid gold bo clattered to the grund. "It'll take a lot of practice to get used to the new weight load!"

"Mondo bizarro, Dude." Michelangelo stared. "That thing really is dangerous!"

"You're right, Michelangelo," Leonardo said gravely. "I bet it could turn any of us to gold!"

"So we'll stay away from it," Raphael said. He kicked a charging Bebop out of the way.

"We'll try," Leonardo said. "Barney might try to get the drop on us while we're distracted!"

"Oh, Barney wouldn't do that, would he?" Raphael somersaulted to the side, his voice laced with heavy sarcasm. "His brother believes Barney is still good deep down."

"Shut up!" Barney swiped at him with the goose. "Don't talk to me about my brother. Our problems are none of your business!"

"Sure they are," Raphael retorted as he danced away from the deadly beak. "Baxter's our buddy. What concerns him concerns us. A concept that you seem to have overlooked. For shame, Barney."

Michelangelo whipped Rocksteady's blaster away with his nunchucks. "What's the dude doing?!" he worriedly exclaimed.

"He's trying to goad Barney into making a mistake," Leonardo replied. "And knowing Barney's temper, it just might work."

"Or it just might backfire!" Donatello cried.

"That's what I'm afraid of!" Michelangelo declared.

"Oh me, oh my," Blodgett gulped from around the side of the van.

"Yeah, Baxter's always telling us that he's not going to give up on you," Raphael continued. "I usually tell him he's crazy. Sometimes he almost makes me believe it, but then you show up and show us the ugly truth. 'Us,' excluding Baxter, of course. For some unfathomable reason, he still thinks you're worth saving."

"I said _shut up!_ " Barney screamed.

"Hey, watch it," Bebop frowned.

"The boss is gonna be real mad if something goes wrong," Rocksteady added. "And Krang'll be even madder. He was real excited about us finding that goose in the alien room!"

But Barney wasn't listening. "Gold, gold, _gold!_ " he shrieked.

"Raphael!" Michelangelo ran into the fray, his eyes filled with fear.

When Barney held the goose out, Raphael got a sai underneath it and flipped it out of the crazed scientist's hands. "Ha! So much for that. Catch it, Michelangelo!"

Relieved, Michelangelo leaped into the air for the pass. "Touchdown! Turtles ten, bad guys zero!"

"Uh oh," Bebop gulped. "Now what?"

"We retreat," Rocksteady replied. "We'll havta come up with a plan to get it back. We can't try to get it now; we might get turned into gold!"

"Good point," Bebop nodded.

They faded back into the shadows.

Barney barely noticed their departure. He fell to the ground, seething, his eyes flashing with rage and hatred. Raphael stood over him with a satisfied smirk. "And that, gentlemen, is why you should never lose your temper in the middle of a serious battle."

Leonardo folded his arms. "You know why I think you got so angry, Barney?"

"I don't care what you think, Turtle," Barney snapped.

"No, you don't," Leonardo agreed. "But you care what Baxter thinks. You don't like having it rubbed in your face that he still cares about you."

"That's right," Raphael agreed. "Probably because you know that you're slime and that you've treated him like _he_ is."

Barney got to his feet. "Enjoy your victory while it lasts," he said darkly. "It won't be for long." With that he turned and ran after Bebop and Rocksteady.

"Should we go after him?" Michelangelo asked.

"Let him go for now," Leonardo said. "We should get this goose back to the Lair and try to figure out what to do with it."

"I'd be delighted to!" Donatello exclaimed. "Can you imagine what kind of properties it must have to be able to transmute matter into gold?!"

"Uh, yeah," Michelangelo frowned. "All the wrong kinds, Amigo. And what about tomorrow's day off?"

"There'll be time for that," Donatello insisted. "But it's very important that we figure out what this thing's secret is. We have to turn the Empire State Building back to normal!"

"And the news van," Blodgett exclaimed. "Oh no, what will Mr. Vernon say when I show up tomorrow with a 100-karat van?!"

"He'll probably say 'Yowsa, where can I get some of that?!'" Raphael quipped.

"I guess maybe you're right," Blodgett said. "Well, thanks for showing up at just the right time, as always." He climbed back into the van and then flinched. "Ow!"

"What's wrong?" Leonardo blinked.

"Solid gold seats aren't comfortable," Blodgett grimaced.

"Wait, the _inside_ of the van is gold too?!" Raphael came over to peer in. "Oh boy. You know what, the seatbelts are probably dangerous now. Why don't you forget the van and we'll take you home."

Blodgett perked up. "Really? Gee, thanks." He climbed out and locked the door after him.

Donatello hurried over to the van now. "Fascinating," he breathed.

Michelangelo was not pleased. "I can think of a lot of other words for it. Come on, Donatello, let's go!"

Reluctantly, Donatello tore himself away. "I'll come back in the morning and take pictures," he decided.

Michelangelo sighed and looked to Leonardo with an expression of knowing disappointment. Their plans for tomorrow were definitely shot.

Leonardo looked back with sympathy but didn't speak to try to change Donatello's mind. This _did_ seem like a serious problem that needed correcting. And out of all of them, Donatello was the most qualified to see about that.

xxxx

"What are we doin' here, Barney?" Bebop asked as Barney picked the lock on the door of an old factory and pushed it open. "This place is condemned."

"All the better for us," Barney retorted. "No one will bother us here." He stepped inside and took out a flashlight. He beamed it at the floor but walked ahead with purpose. He knew what he was doing. And, it seemed, where he was going.

"Have you been here before?" Rocksteady looked nervously over his shoulder.

"I was here once or twice out of bored curiosity," Barney admitted. Finding the stairs, he started up. "Shut that door after you."

Rocksteady complied. "So what _are_ we doing?" he echoed Bebop's question. "The boss is gonna be calling in pretty soon wanting to know what's happening."

"We're here so I can find the parts to put together a gold-tracker," Barney finally explained. "We don't know the location of the Turtles' Lair, but the gold-tracker will follow the signal of the goose and take us there. Then we can take them by surprise and recover the goose before Mr. Shredder and Krang realize it's gone. In addition, we will at long last know the location of the Lair, something our employers have wanted for ages. That information will more than make up for this little setback."

"Okay," Bebop said slowly. "But uh, why do you think you can find the parts here?"

"There's all manner of spare parts around here," Barney replied. "I'm sure the previous occupant collected what we'll need."

"Somebody _lived_ here?!" Rocksteady said in disbelief. He followed Barney and Bebop up the stairs, sticking to one side when it looked like the middle could break through at any moment.

"That term could be used loosely, but yes, someone had his residence here," Barney said. "It wasn't condemned then, just abandoned." Finally arriving on the top floor, he threw open the door and instinctively switched on a light without looking for it. The remains of a scientist's workroom, with tables, benches, and pieces of several unfinished and ravaged inventions were illuminated.

"Wow," said Bebop. "So who lived here?"

"My brother," Barney said with a sneer. "He sunk all his money into his inventions and couldn't make up the rent for his apartment, so he was kicked out. He made do with this rat-trap." He walked over to one half-completed cylindrical tower and started examining it for parts. "No one should be able to see the lights in here with the windows boarded, but why don't you two keep watch just in case."

"Okay." Bebop headed back to the stairs. "I wonder why the lights come on when this place is condemned and stuff."

"Apparently the city never found Baxter's generator," Barney answered, already occupied with his task.

"Well, that's handy," said Bebop.

"Yeah," Rocksteady agreed. "Maybe we can use this place as a hideout a lot more times!"

"We'll see," said Barney. "I'd rather not come here often, but if my brother's collection is useful now, it may be again in the future. Now go on and keep a lookout downstairs!"

"Okay, okay," Rocksteady snapped. "We're going."

"What do we do if the boss calls?" Bebop suddenly wondered. "He probably will. Or Krang."

"Whatever you do, don't tell him the goose has fallen into the Turtles' possession!" Barney exclaimed. "That might put me out of favor with Krang as well as Shredder. I can't have that."

"So maybe we should just not answer?" Rocksteady suggested.

"Fine, fine!" Barney grabbed a wrench and began loosening a bolt.

"They'll know something's wrong if that goes on too long, though," Bebop pointed out.

"This shouldn't take long," Barney insisted.

"Well, okay." But Bebop still looked worried.

So did Rocksteady. "Krang was so sure the goose would be the thing that would get all our plans to work. If we don't get it back, maybe we'll _all_ fall out of favor with both of them!" He shuddered. "Then it'd probably be into the disintegration chamber for all of us!"

Barney paused. For a moment he pictured Baxter being cruelly dragged down the hall to certain death. Then he furiously shook his head. "No. That won't happen. I won't let it."

"I don't know how you're gonna stop it," Bebop said. "Not unless we get the goose back."

"We'll get it back!" Barney boomed.

"I think we should leave him alone," Rocksteady hissed.

Bebop was in complete agreement. With a nod he followed Rocksteady down the stairs and away from the high-strung scientist.

xxxx

Splinter listened in grave concern as the Turtles described the bizarre events of the night and showed him the Golden Goose. He studied it with thoughtfulness, turning it around in his hands.

"So you see, Master Splinter, I feel that it's really important for me to work on uncovering the secrets of this goose right away," Donatello said. "The future of the world could depend on it!"

"I agree," Splinter answered. "But think carefully, my son. Are you more eager to examine the goose for that reason, or because you are simply fascinated by it?"

Donatello looked down. "Well . . . it's some of both, I guess."

Michelangelo frowned. "You'd rather tinker with bizarro power sources and King Midas geese than to be with us for some downtime!"

That brought Donatello's attention up again with a snap. "That's not true!" he protested.

"So does that mean that if there wasn't this new threat against the world, you'd still go ahead with our plans for tomorrow instead of trying to pick apart this weird waterfowl?" Michelangelo asked, folding his arms.

"Of course it does!" Donatello insisted.

"I have to wonder," Raphael said. "But whatever. You can stay up and play with it. I am going to bed."

"Me too," Leonardo declared. "It's been a really long day. We already had to deal with Vernon getting possessed by that crazy crown. We really didn't need another problem right away."

Michelangelo yawned. "Yeah, tomorrow's probably gonna be mondo active. I'm gonna hit the sack too."

Leonardo stood, heading for his room. "Goodnight, Master Splinter." Raphael and Michelangelo echoed his words.

"Goodnight," Splinter nodded.

"Are you going to stay up, Master Splinter?" Donatello asked.

"No, I believe I will go to bed as well," Splinter said. "I wish you success with your endeavor."

"Thank you, Master," Donatello said. "I might end up having to go out to the alien room to look for information there."

Splinter paused. "If you do, you should not go alone. There's no telling what else might be there or if Krang and Shredder might try to go back."

"I'll keep that in mind," Donatello promised.

xxxx

When Baxter's Turtle-Comm went off the next morning, he felt like hiding under his pillow and not answering it. He had fallen asleep again at some point, but he wasn't sure for how long. Judging from how exhausted he was, it couldn't have been much. Still, it could be important. He reached to the nightstand and fumbled with the device before finally getting hold of it and opening it. "Hello?" he mumbled.

"Wow, Dude, you look awful," Michelangelo proclaimed.

"I wonder how well you'd look after a bad night's sleep," Baxter retorted.

"Aww, man, I thought you'd probably sleep pretty good after last night being so hectic," Michelangelo said in sympathy. "I don't think Donatello closed his eyes once."

"Really?" Baxter raised an eyebrow. "What was the matter with him?"

"Oh, he found something _better_ to do than hang with us today like we were planning." Michelangelo couldn't keep the disappointment and frustration out of his voice. "I mean, I know this is important and all, but he was so excited to think of working on it, and I guess you probably will be too . . ."

"Working on _what_ , Michelangelo?!" Baxter exclaimed in exasperation.

"The Golden Goose! We found this crazy goose last night that was turning buildings and vans and bo staffs to solid gold! We brought it home and Donatello's been putting it through a bunch of tests ever since."

That woke Baxter up. "What do you mean you _found_ it?!" He sat up straight, reaching for his glasses while holding onto the Turtle-Comm with his other hand.

"Well . . ." Michelangelo looked hesitant now. "Bebop and Rocksteady were using it. And your brother."

"Yeah!" Raphael called in the background. "He tried to turn me and Donatello into statues!"

Baxter flinched. "And you got this _goose_ away from them?"

"Yep," said Michelangelo. "They were real mad."

"No doubt they'll try to get it back," Baxter frowned. "Where did it come from?!"

"From that alien ship, I think," Michelangelo said. "It's a good thing they don't know how to get to the Lair."

"Don't assume that will remain the case," Baxter warned. "Barney will be very determined to get it back. If he was the only one with Bebop and Rocksteady, it most likely means that he was put in charge of this operation. After his failure with the spider robot, he will be all the more desperate to ensure it doesn't happen again."

"Yeah, but he sure doesn't know his way around here," Michelangelo said slowly. "And Bebop and Rocksteady are too stupid to remember how they get here whenever they show up!"

"Don't underestimate Barney," Baxter insisted. "Maybe he can devise something that will enable him to track the goose."

"No way," Michelangelo gasped. "He could do that?"

"I wouldn't put it past him, at least," Baxter said.

"I'd better warn Donatello," Michelangelo said. "The dude's been really uptight about this goose thing. He doesn't like any interruptions."

"I don't blame him," Baxter said. "But he had better accept this one." He started to get out of bed. "I'll come out there."

"I don't think Donatello's had much luck with figuring out how the goose works," Michelangelo said.

"I haven't," Donatello said in the background. "I was just coming to say that I'm going to go out to the alien room and see if I can find anything there. Master Splinter didn't think I should go alone in case someone's there we don't want to see."

"Well, Baxter's saying that Barney might come up with a way to track the goose," Michelangelo reported. "Since we're all up for the day, why don't we all come with you?"

"Alright," Donatello said slowly.

Splinter wandered into the room. "I sense that there will be much danger involved," he announced. "I will come as well."

"I'll meet all of you there," Baxter promised even as his stomach turned. He had a bad feeling about this venture too. But maybe there was nothing to it; it could just be nerves at the thought of running into Barney again. As long as they were on opposite sides of the fight, it was going to be increasingly difficult to keep encountering his angry brother. By this point, Baxter really had no idea if the situation would ever change. And that depressed him more and more with each meeting.

 _Why can't you see that this is only going to turn out badly for you, Barney?_ he silently lamented as he ended the conversation and moved to get ready to leave. _You know what happened to me. Why do you think you will be immune?_

Maybe, he thought in chagrin, it wasn't that Barney thought that. Maybe Barney was just so desperate to have a job where Baxter wasn't the first choice that he was willing to take one that deep down he really knew was doomed.

xxxx

"Yes! I've got it!"

Bebop and Rocksteady hurried up the rickety stairs at the sound of Barney's triumphant and slightly crazed voice. "The gold-tracker's finished?!" Rocksteady exclaimed.

"And it works?" Bebop added.

"Of course it works!" At the top of the stairs, they found Barney grinning wildly with bloodshot eyes as he held out a mysterious box-like object with a handle. The arrow on its viewscreen shifted directions like a compass while it clicked away like a Geiger counter.

"So how do you know it's tracking the goose and not something else made of gold, like the Empire State Building or that news van?" Rocksteady asked.

Barney brushed past him and Bebop, his eyes flashing with his excitement and delight. "I can put in the exact dimensions of the object in question!" he crowed. "It is most definitely tracking the goose."

"Oh good," said Bebop. He started to follow Barney down the stairs. "So now we can finally answer the boss the next time he calls?"

"Yes!" Barney said over his shoulder. "But remember: don't tell him the goose was lost!"

"How are we gonna avoid it?" Bebop wondered. "He and Krang have gotta know something's up by now. Maybe they're even up here looking for us."

"Tell him the communicator was lost and you spent the night looking for it. Tell him anything other than the truth!" Barney snapped.

"Okay," Bebop frowned. "You really are uptight. You don't have any inside knowledge that this is your last chance or something, do you?" His tone and his body language showed that he was concerned. Not for Barney, naturally, but for himself and maybe for Rocksteady.

"No, I don't," Barney said. "I'm just thinking of Mr. Shredder's lack of patience with humans. He already abandoned me once. And Krang might not have much more patience. He never wanted to work with an Earth scientist before."

"I guess that's plenty of reason to be worried," Bebop conceded.

"That, and what happened to your brother," Rocksteady added.

"Yes." Barney's voice was clipped. "Be quiet now and we should have the goose back within a half-hour." He frowned. "I don't think it's in the Turtles' Lair. The signal is too close. It must be aboveground."

"That's okay with us," Rocksteady said. "We didn't really wanna go in the sewers anyway."

"I wanted to deliver the Turtles' Lair as a bonus offering, even though in that case we _would_ have to explain some of what happened," Barney said. "But nevermind that now." He headed out of the factory and into their amphibious module. "Let's go. Rocksteady, you drive. I will give you directions."

"Oh boy!" Rocksteady exclaimed. He hopped in the driver's seat.

Bebop got in more cautiously. Barney's worries had him worried too. Hopefully there was nothing to them.

xxxx

Baxter arrived two blocks away from the construction site around the same time as the Turtles and Splinter. He eyed the military guards with wariness as he climbed out of his station wagon. "Exactly how do you expect to get past those sentries?" he asked in greeting to his friends.

"We're not sure," Michelangelo admitted. "We can't use a lot of ninja stealth in broad daylight."

"Perhaps you can get us in, Dr. Stockman," Splinter suggested. "You are Channel 6's scientific consultant. If you explain to them that you are conducting a follow-up examination of the alien room, they may allow you to pass."

Baxter frowned. "I doubt it," he objected. "They likely have their own scientists. They wouldn't want someone else butting in."

"Hey, it's worth a try," Raphael shrugged.

Suddenly Michelangelo noticed they weren't all there. "Where's Donatello?" he asked.

"He's still in the Van," Leonardo replied. "He said he'd come out with the goose if we figure out a way in. Otherwise, he thinks he should stay there for now and run some more tests."

Michelangelo scowled. "The dude's just mondo obsessed with that creepy cousin to a rubber duckie."

"Surely you realize he needs to learn what makes it tick," Baxter said.

"Yeah, but he's started turning things into gold to study them after it happens," Michelangelo sighed. "I think he's really getting a charge out of it."

"It would be fascinating," Baxter said. "I would likely enjoy it myself."

"That figures," Michelangelo muttered. "You geek types usually stick together."

"Michelangelo, what's wrong with you?" Leonardo frowned, while Baxter looked stunned and even a little hurt. "I know you're disappointed about not getting to do something fun today, but surely you realize this takes priority."

"Oh, I know," Michelangelo said. "It's not really that, though." He looked to the Van. "I'm worried about Donatello. You know? It's kind of like how he was when he realized the Earth was moving closer to the sun, only different. He's so obsessively fascinated by the thing that he can't think of anything else."

From the Van came Donatello's voice. "I just turned the tracking camera to gold! But . . . how? How does it work? Why can't I figure out _why_ it works?! Gold!" A bright flash. "Gold! _Gold!_ "

Everyone stared in shock. "Donatello, chill out before you turn the whole Van into gold like the news van last night!" Michelangelo yelled.

"But I have to figure out how this works!" Donatello cried. "If I can't, I won't be able to determine how to reverse it!"

"What happened to finding the solution in the alien room?" Michelangelo frowned.

"Michelangelo is right, my student." Splinter approached the Van's open door and looked inside. "You are pushing yourself too hard with this task. Your feelings are clouding your mind. You must take a break."

"I don't have time!" Donatello insisted. "The bad guys will probably be here any minute!"

"Oh, how right you are." Raphael turned to look as the module drove up next to their vehicles.

Baxter tensed. When Barney leaped outside baring a strange device and a wild look in his eyes, Baxter took a step back. He had hoped it wouldn't happen, but he found himself afraid of his brother again.

"Hand over that goose, Brother!" Barney demanded. "I won't play so nice this time."

"I can believe it," Baxter frowned. "But I don't have the goose."

"Then one of the Turtles still does." Barney turned, finally pointing his device at the Van. "There!"

Bebop and Rocksteady lumbered in that direction. "Okay, Turtle, give it up," Bebop ordered.

Donatello appeared at the door, bo staff in hand. "If you really think I'm going to, you've got another thing coming," he said darkly. "And don't forget that all of you ran away last night because you were afraid we were going to try to turn you into gold. Aren't you still afraid of that now?"

"Nah, not really," said Rocksteady. He lunged at Donatello. "Especially when you're not even holding it!"

Baxter dove out of the way as a full-scale brawl commenced. Barney made a beeline for the Van, making sure to avoid the flying mutants along the way.

"Someone stop him!" Leonardo yelled. He sliced through Bebop's latest blaster.

"I'm on it, Amigo!" Michelangelo called back. He twirled his grappling hook, catching the top of the open back doors of the Van. He swooped forward and inside, just in time to meet Barney entering the Van from the front. "Hey, are you looking for this?" He grabbed for the goose at the same time Barney did.

Barney clenched his teeth. "Let _go._ "

Michelangelo gave a forceful pull, bringing the goose to him and raising the desperate Barney off the floor when he continued to grip it. "You let go, Dude!" he said in disbelief.

"Barney!" Baxter ran up to the passenger door and looked inside.

Barney ignored him and continued to tug at the goose, but in vain. Baxter was coming in and Michelangelo was reaching to pry Barney away with his other hand. There were only seconds to act before one or both of them managed to pull him back. In one swift move, Barney had wrenched the goose down so the beak was touching Michelangelo's arm. "Gold," he hissed.

Michelangelo's eyes went wide. "Dude, what . . ." But then the goose dropped from his hand as a cruel gold coating swept over his body. He didn't even have the chance to scream.

Barney landed on his feet, clutching the goose while standing by and observing. Baxter stopped short, staring in utter horror and disbelief. "Michelangelo!" He whipped around, regarding Barney with a look of mixed but shattered emotions.

Barney took a step back. "He's not dead," he defended. The tremor in his voice could not be concealed. "He's _not._ Krang said there was an antidote. . . ."

"And you'd believe him?!" Baxter screamed.

The voices brought the fighting outside the Van to a halt. Instantly the other Turtles took up Baxter's cry. _"Michelangelo!"_ They and Splinter rushed forward with one accord, looking up at their beloved compatriot. He was frozen in place, one arm raised and the other half-extended, a shocked look permanently etched into his golden features.

"Alright, that does it!" Raphael roared. He sprang into the Van, both sai bared as he lunged at Barney. "You're scum! I'll never forgive you for this!"

"Gold!" Barney screamed, touching the beak to the closest sai. He turned, desperately pushing past Baxter as he ran to the side door.

"Barney, no!" Baxter cried. He stumbled but righted himself and chased after his twin.

Rocksteady was waiting just outside the door. "I'll take this," he sneered, pulling the goose away from Barney before the man could so much as utter a protest. "Gold!" he yelled, touching Raphael's hand when the vengeful Turtle ran over.

Raphael's eyes flashed. He opened his mouth to speak, probably a bitter curse, but nothing came out.

Baxter fell back, further horrified to see a second Turtle become a statue. He gripped the top of the seat in back of him, shaking, his knuckles white.

Rocksteady just laughed. "Two down! Won't the boss be thrilled!" He turned, running towards the module. "Catch, Bebop!"

Bebop held out his hands with an evil grin as he ran.

"No, you fools!" Barney yelled. "It isn't a football!"

But Rocksteady had already lobbed the bird. Bebop caught it and held it fast. The module was just up ahead. The two remaining Turtles and Splinter were running at them from the opposite side, Leonardo in the lead with both katanas bared.

"You're not getting away with that goose!" he insisted.

"Try us," Bebop sneered. "Gold." He ducked under the sword and touched Leonardo's fingers with the beak as he leaped into the module. Rocksteady and Barney followed right on his tail. The door slammed shut as Donatello and Splinter ran up. Then it was gone, digging into the ground.

Donatello stood shaking, staring in disbelief at the hole in the ground. He couldn't bring himself to look at Leonardo, frozen in the process of running. Chilling, deadly silence filled the area for one endless moment. Then a shout of anguish tore from Donatello's lips. He stabbed the ground with the end of his staff and sank to his knees in grief.

"Gone," he choked out. "They're all gone! I'm the only Turtle left!"

"Donatello." Splinter laid a firm hand on Donatello's shoulder. Despite the anguish in his own voice, he struggled to hold it back. "We cannot give up. There must be a way to reverse this."

Donatello trembled. "We were going to make a good day out of today," he sobbed. "Then this goose came along and I felt I had to put all my attention to it! I _wanted_ to put all my attention to it! It was so incredible to me that I just couldn't tear myself away!"

"It was important," Splinter told him.

Donatello wasn't comforted. "But that wasn't really why I was so interested. At least not at first. I just thought it was really fantastic. I let them down! Michelangelo was so disappointed. I'm sure everyone else was too. And now . . . now, maybe there'll never be another chance!"

Splinter shut his eyes in grief. "We must focus on the idea that there will be," he said. "Giving up will surely let them down."

"Oh, I won't give up." Donatello's voice had suddenly turned hard. He got to his feet, pulling the bo out of the ground. "I'm going into that alien room and find out what to do, no matter how many guards try to stop me!"

The guards were running over to the scene, shocked and horrified at what they had witnessed from afar. "What happened here?!" one of them cried.

Splinter looked to them. "You are aware of the golden Empire State Building?"

"We sure are," said the second.

"The same object that rendered it as gold has been used against three of the Ninja Turtles," Splinter said gravely. "It came from the room you are guarding, stolen last night by lackeys of Shredder and Krang. We must be allowed to enter the room and search for information on how to reverse what has happened. If this is not corrected, it could happen to many more innocent people."

"Well, come on," exclaimed the first.

Donatello hurried after him, clutching his bo so tightly his knuckles were turning white. The second guard followed after him, badly disturbed. "If I hadn't seen them being transformed, I wouldn't believe it," he said. "I can barely believe it as it is!"

"It happened," Donatello answered, his voice pinched. "I saw it too."

Splinter lingered behind, remembering that there was one of their party who was not accounted for. "Dr. Stockman?" He looked into the Van, his heart twisting as he had to look around Raphael to do so. He was afraid that he would find a golden Baxter Stockman, another victim of the villains' flight. Instead he found a very much alive Baxter sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest. He was staring ahead, shaking and practically hyperventilating.

Immediately Splinter slipped around Raphael and knelt next to the traumatized scientist. "Dr. Stockman!" He gripped Baxter's shoulders. "Dr. Stockman, you must get hold of yourself!"

Baxter looked to him, the horrors of the ages written in his eyes and on his face. "My brother started this," he whispered. "Barney did that to Michelangelo. And then Rocksteady did it to Raphael. . . ." He shook his head. "I just stood here, so close but so unable to do anything!"

"None of us could do anything," Splinter said quietly. "But we must do something now. We must find how to reverse what has happened."

Baxter swallowed hard. ". . . Barney insisted Michelangelo isn't dead," he rasped. "He said Krang knows of an antidote. Barney does all manner of abominable things, but he tried so hard to convince me that he didn't just murder my friend right before my eyes. No . . . he was trying to convince himself."

"We must believe in the antidote," Splinter said. "Come, Dr. Stockman. We are going to search the alien room. The military has given us permission to go ahead now that they have seen the power of the goose."

Baxter reached behind him for the back of the car's seat. He was still shaking as he gripped it and pulled himself up, but he seemed to have regained better control of himself overall. He cast a final forlorn look at Michelangelo and Raphael before following Splinter outside.

The sight of Leonardo made him stop in his tracks again. "Oh no," he gasped.

"Donatello escaped," Splinter told him. "We must hurry."

Baxter gave a trembling nod. Dizzy and choked with confusion and grief and sorrow, he walked with Splinter to the alien room.

He didn't try to speak again until they were in the room and walking over to where Donatello was going through the contents of a shelf. "Donatello, I . . . I'm so sorry," he tried to say.

"It wasn't your fault," Donatello answered, not looking up. "You're hurting too."

"I was right there and I couldn't do anything," Baxter said sadly. He took the next shelf.

"Master Splinter and I were right behind Leonardo and we couldn't save him," Donatello said.

"You . . . really don't blame me?" Baxter sounded amazed and even awed at the concept. "It was my brother who did that to Michelangelo."

Donatello slammed a book shut. "No, I don't blame you! I don't even fully blame Barney. I blame myself more than anyone else! I should have been able to figure out how the goose worked before things got this far! I was trying so hard to do everything I could to find the answers, and I completely missed the mark! If it wasn't for me, they might all be okay right now!"

"They would not want you to blame yourself," Splinter said kindly. "And that goes for both of you."

". . . And for you too, Sensei," Donatello said.

Splinter bowed his head. "Yes. I know."

Baxter sighed. "It won't be easy, but I'll try not to blame myself." He looked despondently at the shelf. "It could take days to crack the aliens' language! Weeks! And we very likely won't even have hours before Shredder and Krang strike. What can we do?!"

"The very best we can," Splinter said. "I know it doesn't seem like it now, but I feel very strongly that the worst is yet to come."

Donatello and Baxter exchanged a horrified look. How could things possibly get worse?

xxxx

The communicator went off while the module was en route back to the factory. Barney glanced at Bebop in the front seat. "You can answer that now," he said.

If Bebop noticed the tautness to Barney's voice, he said nothing about it. "Hi, Boss," he greeted.

 _"What in blazes is going on up there?!"_ Shredder boomed.

"Well, we had a little trouble with losing the goose to the Turtles," Bebop said. "But we got it back!"

"Really?" Shredder sounded doubtful.

Suddenly Krang pushed him away to take over the screen. "You had better not be lying," he gurgled.

"It's the truth, Krang! Honest!" Bebop sneered. "And here's something you're really going to like. We got three of the Turtles!"

"What?" Krang looked suspicious. "What do you mean, you _got_ them?"

"They're nothin' more than gold statues!" Rocksteady crowed.

"Is it possible?" Krang frowned.

"Barney got one of them," Bebop said. "Rocksteady and I got the other two. It'll probably be on the news any time now."

"Well." Krang's face split into a wide smile. "I'd say I was right about Barney. He's an asset to our little group. He even got the two of you to do something right."

Shredder stamped his foot. "Such a key opportunity and I missed it!" he cried. "Three of the Turtles vanquished without me even there to share in the victory!"

"At least you know it's been done," Krang retorted. "Now, contact Channel 6 as you were originally supposed to do and deliver our ultimatum."

"Right, Krang," said Bebop.

"Wait." Barney leaned forward, looking over the top of the seat in front of him. "You said there's an antidote. What is it?"

"Well, that all depends on how soon the goose is returned to the precise location in the alien ship where Bebop and Rocksteady found it," Krang replied. "You see, there's something I didn't tell you."

"There's a lot you didn't tell us," Shredder growled. "What is it, Krang?!"

"Once the goose leaves its roost, there's only 24 Earth hours to put it back before disaster spreads across the entire face of the globe," Krang chortled. "After 12 hours the goose comes to life and starts turning anything it sees into gold. Two hours later, it sheds its golden coat and that starts spreading across the planet, coating everything in its path! By the time the full day is up, you have one of the prettiest planets in the universe, but also one of the deadest!" He cackled madly.

"What?!" Barney gripped the seat. "You left us up here and didn't bother to tell us that we might be dooming the planet, us included?!"

"Relax," Krang said with a wave of an arm. "After you make the ultimatum, you will return the goose to the alien ship to await the people's decision. Naturally you don't tell them it's been returned. You'll let them think they only have a few hours to agree to let us take over."

"But it's almost been 12 hours now," Bebop exclaimed. "There's never gonna be enough time!"

"Then you fools shouldn't have lost the goose to the Turtles in the first place," Krang sneered. "Do your best with what time you have."

"And what if things get to where this golden coat is spreading across Earth?!" Shredder exclaimed. "Will it reach us at the bottom of the ocean?!"

"I've made plans in case of that," Krang said calmly. "The gold won't be able to pass through our shields. When it finishes, we can teleport ourselves to the surface and recapture the goose. It won't be hard, since it will be the only other being not encased in gold. Then we can return it to its roost and everything will be reversed."

"I hope you will transport us back to the Technodrome before we're caught up in that," Barney snapped.

"Of course," Krang said.

". . . What if things don't go that far?" Barney wondered. "Will putting the goose in its roost reverse everything that has been turned to gold at this point?"

"Hmm. There's a different method for restoring what was turned to gold in that case. But you wouldn't want to do that now, would you?" Krang smirked at him.

"I'm just wondering," Barney insisted. "Those who escaped the cruelest results of our attack are probably searching for a way to reverse it now."

"They'll never find it," Krang giggled. "They can't read the language! And now, stop wasting my time and get on with contacting Channel 6!" The screen went dead.

"We're coming up in downtown New York now," Rocksteady said. "Maybe we should go directly to Channel 6."

Barney slumped back in the seat. "Do that," he agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

Donatello, Baxter, and Splinter were still deeply involved in their desperate attempts to decipher the aliens' language when the call came through that they had all been dreading. Donatello took out his Turtle-Comm, opened it, and steeled himself. "Hey, April."

"Donatello, what's going on?" April said in confusion. "The Empire State Building is gold, Mr. Blodgett showed up for work talking about a golden news van, and your Turtle-Comm is the only one of the guys' communicators that's working!"

Donatello drew a shuddering breath. "Horrible things have been happening. Basically, Krang got hold of a golden goose from that alien room and it's some kind of philosopher's stone. He's had his goons turning things in New York to gold. Including the other three Turtles."

"What?!" The color visibly drained from April's face. "That can't be true! This is some kind of a joke, right?"

"I'd never joke about a thing like that." Donatello's voice was taut again.

"No. No, of course you wouldn't. But it's so awful, I can hardly believe it! There's a way to save them, isn't there?!"

"We're looking into it right now," Donatello said. "Master Splinter and Baxter are with me."

"Let me know if I can help," April pleaded.

"Aren't you short-staffed today because Vernon's off meeting his sister and Foster at the airport?" Donatello blinked.

"Yes, but that doesn't matter! I'll still come," April insisted.

Donatello had to smile. "Thanks, April. I'll let you know if we need you."

April was about to hang up when a crash shook the building and made her jump a mile. "Now what?!" She rushed to the window and looked down. "Oh _no!_ It's a transport module!"

Baxter stared. "Why would they go there?!"

Donatello gripped the Turtle-Comm. "Maybe they're going to zap some more people into gold to use as hostages and bartering chips," he said darkly. "Don't worry, April. I'll be right there."

"Okay," April swallowed hard. "But be careful when you come! They already have three Turtles!"

"Don't I know it." Donatello hung up. "Master Splinter, I have to go."

"Yes," Splinter agreed. "You must. And Dr. Stockman should go with you."

"What?!" Baxter stared. "But I should stay here and try to work on this alien language!"

"I will stay," Splinter said. "You said Barney still does not want to be a murderer. Perhaps Krang has told him the secrets of the goose since their departure. He might tell you. I doubt if he would tell anyone else."

"I doubt he'll tell me," Baxter said bitterly.

"I really think Raphael was right about him," Donatello said. "Master Splinter, he's no good. To do that to Michelangelo, and right while Baxter was helplessly watching . . . !"

"Part of me would like to agree," Splinter confessed. "What he did was deplorable. But we must try every conceivable avenue to save the other Turtles. When getting Barney to talk is even the slightest possibility, we must utilize it."

Donatello bowed his head. "Yes, Master." He turned to go. "Come on, Baxter."

Baxter hung back, searching Splinter with a bewildered gaze. But when Splinter merely gave him a quiet nod in reply, Baxter gave up and turned to follow Donatello out.

xxxx

It took several minutes to get going, as Donatello realized that Michelangelo and Raphael had to either be chained down, laid on the floor, or lifted out of the Van. He opted for the latter and set about attempting to lift Michelangelo down first.

Baxter watched, sickened anew. "Can I help?"

Donatello shook his head. "I've got him." His throat tightened. But, fighting back the emotions threatening to escape, he placed Michelangelo on the grass and went around to the side to get Raphael.

Baxter stepped out of the way, allowing Donatello to place Raphael on the grass near Michelangelo. But when Donatello hesitated, staring blankly at the cold and silent forms of two of his lifelong companions, Baxter regarded him in concern. "Donatello?"

". . . I wonder if they're really solid gold in there," Donatello said softly. "Maybe it's an encasing. What if they can still hear and think and feel? What if they're suffocating? What if . . ."

"Donatello." Baxter came forward and rested a hand on Donatello's shoulder. "You'll drive yourself insane imagining all the What Ifs. We can't do anything here. Let's just go and see if we can get any closer to rescuing them at Channel 6."

Donatello glanced over at him. "You're right. And we have to try to stop Bebop and Rocksteady from creating more golden hostages."

"And Barney," Baxter added. "He was shaken by what he did, but that doesn't mean he won't do it again. I don't know what he's capable of any more."

"I'm sorry," Donatello said. And he meant it.

Conversation on the way to Channel 6 was sparse. Both Donatello and Baxter were playing the fight over and over in their minds and agonizing over the outcome. Both were anguished over their friends being harmed. And each had his own personal demons to contend with in addition to that. Neither felt like speaking of those feelings any more aloud, but they held them close in their hearts on the drive.

Utter chaos was descending on Channel 6 when Donatello pulled up in front. Panic-stricken people were running for the doors, but a sneering Rocksteady stood in front of them with crossed arms and barred the way. "Nobody's getting in or out until we have an agreement from the mayor that the city's gonna be turned over to us!"

Donatello clenched his teeth in rarely-seen fury. "We have to find another way in," he said. "The sewers if nothing else. Do you know of something quicker?"

"They can't be blocking everything," Baxter mused. "Not unless Shredder sent up a contingent of Foot Soldiers. We'll try the side entrance. Bebop and Rocksteady might think of blocking the front and back, but I doubt they would consider the side. And someone will need to move about freely with the goose."

"And that might be Barney," Donatello finished.

"It might be." Baxter didn't look at him as he moved ahead to the side door. Turning the handle proved it was open, and he slipped inside before something else could go wrong.

Donatello followed suit. "Whoever has the goose is probably upstairs with the offices," he said quietly. "Or trying to get there."

Baxter nodded. "Then that's what we'll do." He hurried over to the stairs and started up.

Neither was really surprised when arriving at the top meant seeing Barney holding the goose tightly in his hands while holding April, Irma, and Burne at bay. Shimmering golden objects surrounded them on all sides, but to Baxter's relief, he didn't see any golden people.

"You see what my goose can do," Barney was telling them with a smirk. "It does the same to people."

"You're a monster!" April spat. "I bet you really enjoyed using that ugly thing on the Turtles, didn't you?!"

Something flickered in Barney's eyes. "I did what had to be done. And if your mayor cooperates, everyone will be freed."

"Oh, come on." April folded her arms. "We all know the Turtles will never be set free, even if everyone else is."

"That's right," Irma nodded. "Shredder and Krang would never let them go!"

"But we're going to insist on it," Donatello announced as he jumped into the scene.

Baxter followed him out. "Barney, I know you didn't want what you did to be permanent," he said. "I saw it in your eyes and I heard it in your voice. You have to stop this now and tell us how to reverse what was done!"

"I don't know how!" Barney snapped. "Only Krang does. And he won't talk."

"Exactly my point," April snapped back. "But you still won't care, will you? All that really matters to you is being able to use your scientific mind, even if people get hurt and can never be alright again!" She glowered at him. "You always said your brother was weak and pathetic. I say _you_ are."

 _"Shut up!"_ Barney screamed, turning the goose towards her.

"Hey, wait a minute," Burne interrupted. "Why are there two of you?!"

"Why?!" Barney shrilled. "Because we're twins, you idiot!"

The goose suddenly wobbled in his hands. His anger fading, he looked down at it in confusion. So did everyone else.

"It's moving!" Irma shrieked.

"It's coming to life!" Barney realized in horror.

 _"What?!"_ everyone else yelled in disbelief and shock.

Barney dropped the goose like a hot rock. In a flash of light it spread its wings, honking furiously at everyone in the room as it glided to the floor.

"You _do_ know something!" Baxter cried. "What happens now?"

"It's going to start turning anything it feels like into gold!" Barney replied. "Run!"

No one needed any coaxing. Burne flew into his office and slammed the door. April and Irma dashed down another corridor. Barney fled towards an empty office.

The goose continued to honk. It ran around the room, touching everything from Irma's desk to a potted plant to some fallen papers. When it spotted Donatello, it gave chase.

"Hey, easy!" Donatello exclaimed. "Have you got something against Turtles?"

The goose lunged at him and he took off running.

"It has something against anything that moves!" Baxter burst out. He looked around in desperation. If there was just an empty container, maybe he could try to put it over the enraged fowl to catch it!

Donatello practically flew over another desk just before the goose could touch him. The desk flashed and was instantly gold.

Finally Baxter grabbed a nearby trashcan. It was nearly filled to the brim with wasted printer paper, so he dumped that on the floor and ran after the goose with the can.

"Be careful!" Donatello said as he turned back to look. "If your hand's too close . . ."

"I know!" Baxter snapped. He was trying not to think about it.

"Guys, can I help?" April suddenly asked. She had reappeared at the head of the corridor.

The goose immediately looked to her and charged.

Baxter slammed the wastebasket over it while it was distracted. "You just have," he said. He desperately held it down while it rocked back and forth from the goose's fury. In a moment it turned to gold and went still.

"Whew. Oh boy." Donatello came out from around the desk.

"So now what?" April wondered.

"We hold onto the goose and find Barney," Baxter said. "Splinter was right that he knows at least something about what's happening. He might know more, such as how to turn the goose inanimate again."

The goose's angry honking could still be heard echoing from under the golden trashcan. Suddenly there was another flash of light.

"Yikes!" April exclaimed. "It's turning the entire floor to gold!"

Baxter and Donatello stared in shock as the new color spread under their feet.

"We have to find something to slip under the trashcan to contain the goose so we can move it!" Donatello said.

"Maybe one of these golden sheets of paper?" April suggested, holding one out.

"Perfect!" Donatello took hold of the can and started to slip the stiff paper underneath. The goose's beak emerged from the tiny crack, snapping at him. He yelped, rocking back.

The goose took that opportunity to push the can over before it could fall down again. Honking in increased rage, it lunged at Baxter.

"Oh no! It's loose again!" April wailed.

Baxter fled towards the office where he thought Barney had gone. He dived inside, slamming the door behind him.

Barney was indeed there, in the process of engineering an escape attempt by unscrewing the grate over the ventilation shaft near the ceiling. He jumped a mile when Baxter entered.

"Alright, Brother," Baxter said. "Now you're going to tell me the rest of the truth." He folded his arms, glaring at his twin.

Barney frowned. "I've never heard your voice sound so dark." He set the screwdriver down. "Do you hate me now?"

"Maybe I should. I'm certainly angry because of what you did, but I don't hate you." Baxter walked away from the door. "Considering what I did in the past, how could I?"

"At least you'd been driven out of your mind," Barney said. "I can't claim any such thing." He stepped down from the chair.

"Right now the most important thing is stopping that menace," Baxter told him. "Obviously Krang told you things. There has to be more."

Barney sighed heavily. "In a couple of hours, the goose will shed its golden covering altogether. According to Krang, that liquid gold will then spread over absolutely everything on the planet. He believes he can stop it from penetrating the Technodrome, and that once it's over we can come out and reclaim the goose and still reverse the disaster by placing it in its roost on the alien ship."

"And what if the Technodrome _isn't_ immune?!" Baxter exclaimed. "Then there wouldn't be anyone left to reverse it! And how can you place it in its roost when that will be gold as well?!"

"I have to believe Krang knows what he's talking about," Barney defended. "He dealt with the aliens that invented the goose."

Something crashed outside the office and both men jumped. "What happened?" Baxter called through the door.

"We can't catch the goose!" Donatello called back. "It just went into the ventilation system!"

Barney went pale. "Oh no." He ran back to the chair and grabbed the screwdriver.

"Forget about that!" Baxter cried. "We have to get out of this room!"

Barney climbed on the chair anyway and reached for one of the screws. "Tell me something, Baxter. I did what I did today because I felt I had no other choice. Someday the same situation might be on your shoulders. Or worse. If it came down to being forced to kill me to stop me, would you do it?"

Baxter stared at him, his heart gathering speed. "Barney . . ." He was at a loss. "The Turtles don't vanquish their enemies that way. . . ."

"Only because they haven't had to," Barney said. "Although I've heard that they believed they permanently vanquished their enemies on at least one occasion, when they sent the Technodrome to the Earth's core." He finished with the first screw and went on to the second one.

Baxter shook his head. "I . . . I can't think about this," he protested. "And why do you keep fiddling with that grate?!" He grabbed the doorknob and turned it, then thought differently and ran over to the chair. "Let's go!"

"If it was down to you or me, what would you do, Baxter?" Barney screwed in the second screw and then stopped.

Suddenly it dawned on Baxter that Barney had rescrewed the two top screws. The goose could push its way into the room, but getting back out would be much more difficult. And judging from the honking that was growing louder and louder, it was almost there now.

Barney leaped down from the chair and grabbed Baxter's wrist. When they were halfway to the door, the goose burst through the grate and fixed them with a look of absolute hatred.

Baxter's eyes widened. Barney was going to sacrifice him to the goose. He would escape and lock Baxter in here with it. He pulled, trying to get free of Barney's grip.

Instead, Barney half-spun, half-shoved Baxter towards the door. Stunned, Baxter stumbled and nearly crashed into it before fumbling with the knob and throwing it open. He ran out, his eyes filled with terror and confusion.

Barney was almost to the door as well. But then the goose was upon him and he screamed. The door slammed shut and a light flashed from underneath it.

Baxter stopped running and turned back, his heart hammering in his chest. Suddenly his knees were weak.

"Baxter!" Donatello ran over as Baxter started to crash to his knees. "Baxter, what happened?!"

"Barney," Baxter rasped. "He sealed himself in there with the goose. He . . ." He covered his eyes with his hands.

"Oh no." April looked towards the closed door.

"I thought he was trying to hurt me like he did Michelangelo," Baxter said in despair. "He asked me what I'd do if it was him or me and if I'd kill him if that was the only way to stop him. . . ." He shook his head.

"Naturally you'd get scared, especially knowing what he was willing to do earlier," April said kindly.

"I shouldn't have thought it of him," Baxter said morosely.

"Amazingly, Barney actually did a very noble thing on several levels," Donatello said, hurrying to the door and listening to the honking inside. "He left the goose with nowhere else to go. If we can just figure out how to subdue it . . ."

The sound of breaking glass startled all of them.

"Hey!" Burne rushed out of his office. "That crazy goose just threw itself at a window and broke through it! It's getting away!"

Donatello's eyes widened. "It'll turn the entire city of New York into gold!"

"It will do worse than that!" Baxter exclaimed, getting to his feet. "Barney told me the rest." And he relayed the information to his audience.

"This is horrible!" April gasped. "No one in the world is going to be safe!"

Donatello immediately went for his Turtle-Comm. "I have to warn Master Splinter right now!"

Splinter instead chose that moment to contact him. "Donatello!" he greeted when Donatello opened the Turtle-Comm. "I have found something."

"What is it, Sensei?" Donatello asked, surprised.

"I discovered a painting in one of these books that seems to depict the goose." Splinter turned the Turtle-Comm so that Donatello could see the illustration. "It appears that the goose will undergo two disturbing transformations. They can be reversed if the goose is returned to a specific location in either this ship or another one that apparently crashed somewhere in what appears to be the Rocky Mountains."

"We've already learned about the transformations," Donatello sighed. "The goose just had its first one. And now it's left the building!"

Splinter's eyes narrowed. "Then that must be the reason for the screams I am hearing. We must capture the goose and return it here!"

"Have you found where we're supposed to put it in the ship?" Donatello asked.

"I believe so." Splinter slipped the book into his kimono. "I will bring the volume with me."

"We'll meet you and try to catch the goose," Donatello promised.

"I'm coming with you," April insisted as he hung up. "I want to help. Anyway, there couldn't be a bigger story right now!"

"I'm afraid you're right," Donatello sighed.

"Of course she's right!" said Burne. "Take Irma and Dr. Stockman with you and get some great footage. Maybe the goose turning stuff into gold."

"We'll have to be careful or _we'll_ be turned into gold," April pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Burne headed back into his office.

Baxter hurried after him. "Mr. Thompson . . . ?"

Burne turned back. "Yeah?"

Baxter shifted. "My brother is in the room the goose broke out of. Please . . . leave him alone. We have to find a way to save him and everyone else the goose turned."

Burne paused. "Okay, Doctor. It's not like there's enough people around today to make that office necessary. But you'll have to hurry."

"I know." Baxter went over to the others. "We will, for more reasons than one."

"I'll go get Irma," April volunteered. "I know where I left her."

Donatello watched her go, gripping his bo staff. Hopefully there was still enough time to rescue the goose's victims and prevent more. There had to be. There _had_ to be.

 _I promise I'm not going to let you guys down again,_ he vowed in his mind and his heart.

xxxx

The scene outside the Channel 6 building was one of utter chaos. Bebop and Rocksteady were no longer guarding the exits and had likely run to get away from the goose, which was just fine with the group. The last thing they wanted was to grapple with those two right now when they needed to focus on solving the problem flying loose in Manhattan. Skyscrapers shimmered in the winter sun, as well as traffic lights, telephone poles, cars, and worst of all, people. The goose had been busy.

"Raphael would sure have a few choice words about this if he were here," April sadly remarked.

"We're going to hear Raphael's sarcastic comments again," Donatello retorted. He hurried to the Turtle Van and got in. Once the others followed, he started the engine and pulled away from the curb. "We'll follow the trail of gold and find the goose!"

"I guess there's no hope it will go home by itself," April sighed.

"We shouldn't count on it," Donatello said.

It was when they were nearing Central Park that Irma suddenly cried, "There it is!"

Everyone looked. A golden goose was flying past a tree, turning it gold as it went.

"You know, that goose has a serious attitude problem," Donatello frowned.

"Maybe it's tired of everyone being so greedy for gold," April said.

A net swung into view, but missed.

"Someone's trying to catch the goose with a butterfly net?" Donatello said dryly. "That could only be someone like . . ." 

"Bebop and Rocksteady!" April exclaimed, pointing at them.

Baxter rolled his eyes as they ended up catching each other in the nets. "Brilliant."

The mutants glowered at each other. "Hey, watch it!" Rocksteady snapped.

" _You_ watch it!" Bebop retorted. "We've gotta get that goose back for Krang and the boss."

The goose landed in a tree above them and glared, ruffling its golden feathers.

Rocksteady looked up at it in despair. "Aww, come on," he begged. "We've gotta take you back to the alien ship before you start shedding your gold and stuff." He took off the net and held it under the branch. "How about you just get in the nice net?"

The goose responded by bending down and turning it to gold.

Rocksteady promptly dropped it. _"Yeowch!"_

Baxter was not impressed. "The work of a true genius," he said with dripping sarcasm.

Donatello pulled up near them and got out. "I never thought I'd say this, but maybe if we all work together, we can get it," he said.

Rocksteady and Bebop turned to glare suspiciously at him. "Why would we work with you?" Rocksteady asked.

"Because right now we have a common goal," Baxter said. "None of us want that goose to ruin the world."

"We don't care so much about the world," Rocksteady said.

"Yeah," Bebop agreed. "We just don't want it to ruin us!"

"Whatever." Donatello took out his bo. "Let's do what we can against it."

It was then that Splinter came hurrying over the grass, urgency in his movement and his eyes. "Donatello!" he called. "I sense that the goose is about to undergo its second transformation!"

"What?!" Donatello looked back to it as it flew out of the tree and landed on the grass. "It's too soon, isn't it?!"

"I do not know." Splinter gripped his walking stick. "Step away from it!"

Obediently Donatello jumped back. Baxter leaped back in the Van. The goose honked and flapped its wings. The gold began slipping from its body and pooling on the ground.

"Oh no!" Rocksteady shrieked. "We've gotta get out of here! Run for it!"

He and Bebop fled towards a nearby fence. The gold was already beginning to spread as they vaulted it and landed on the other side.

Splinter shook his head. "That will not protect you."

He was right. The gold soon reached the fence, covered it, and continued spreading. Bebop and Rocksteady were coated even as they turned to run again.

Donatello was chilled. "Quick, Master! Get in the Van!" He jumped in himself.

Splinter needed no coaxing. "We must capture the goose," he said, "but we cannot do it here."

The goose was already taking to the sky. The gold was almost at the Van.

"Hurry, Donatello!" April exclaimed. "We have to get out of here!"

"You don't have to tell me twice!" Donatello revved the engine and drove away just as the gold reached the spot where it had stood.

"We can't stay on the ground." Baxter adjusted his glasses, watching the sight in utter horror. "We'll only be safe in the sky."

"And that's probably also the only way we'll catch the goose!" April moaned.

"I'll get us to the Turtle Blimp!" Donatello drove at the absolute legal limit, and even over it, when the gold gathered in speed. All around them, the city was turning to gold.

"The Golden Death," Splinter whispered in sickened alarm. "This is truly frightening. There is no way to hold it back without returning the goose to the alien ship."

"And that's just what we're going to do!" Donatello vowed.

He kept just ahead of the gold on the path to the Turtle Blimp. Of late he had been storing it at an abandoned airfield, which had proved far more convenient than keeping it in the sewers with the Turtle Van. As they arrived, he leaped out and ran for the hangar. "Come on!"

Everyone else ran after him. At the hangar, he and Baxter hauled the heavy doors open and ran inside to the waiting glider and blimp.

"It's coming!" Irma cried in terror.

Donatello switched on the controls and started to bring the Blimp out. "Everyone on!" he called.

The others ran for safety. Irma yelped as she tripped and went down.

"Irma!" April ran back to help her and the gold swept over them.

Donatello's eyes widened. "No," he whispered. Then louder, "Master Splinter! Climb on!" He passed the controls to Baxter and slid over to reach for Splinter's hand. The Blimp was starting to lift off the ground.

Splinter reached for Donatello, but not quite in time. The gold mercilessly covered him and just barely missed the Blimp as the glider rose.

Donatello could only stare, disbelieving, his heart pounding inside his shell. "Master Splinter," he choked out. _"Master Splinter!"_ The other Turtles were gone. April and Irma were gone. Now his beloved teacher, mentor, _father_ was gone as well.

Baxter gripped the controls, his knuckles white. He had known Irma was doomed when she fell, and he hadn't had much hope for April when she went back. It hurt to lose them, especially April. She had been far kinder to him than he had ever thought she would be.

He had thought they would at least be able to rescue Splinter. He had consistently been one of the most supportive of the group ever since Baxter had been turned human again. He had counseled Baxter and encouraged him in his attempts to start a new and honest life. To lose him was a serious blow to Baxter as well as to Donatello.

He dared to glance over at the Turtle. Donatello was still staring down, shaking, clutching the edge of the wing. It had been a horrible day for both of them. Baxter didn't know how much more he could take, and Donatello looked like he had just been pushed to the brink of his ability to deal with everything. One of them had to be strong, for both of them. At the moment, Baxter wasn't sure it could be Donatello.

". . . We'll get him back," Baxter finally spoke. "We'll get all of them back."

The words broke through Donatello's consciousness. He turned, looking to the one friend he had left. "How?" he said morosely. "We don't have the goose. And by the time we find it, the alien ship will be coated in gold too!"

"Krang apparently thought he could return the goose and reverse things even if the ship _was_ gold," Baxter pointed out.

"Yeah, but he might be wrong," Donatello said. "We can't depend on that!"

"I agree. We'll have to find the other ship," Baxter determined.

"But Master Splinter had the book," Donatello moaned. "We won't know where to go!"

". . . Just before we got out of the Van at the airfield, he gave it to me," Baxter confessed. "Maybe he knew he wouldn't make it. But I don't know why he thought I would."

". . . He believed in you," Donatello said quietly. "Just as he did in me. And you're right. We won't let him down. We can't!"

"There's the goose!" Baxter abruptly cried. It was flying up ahead, still honking in anger.

"Okay." Donatello drew a deep breath. "This has to work." As Baxter moved in, Donatello stretched out his arms and made a desperate grab. In a flurry of feathers and honks, he pulled the goose in. "I've got it!" he exclaimed, half in disbelief.

Not wanting to celebrate too soon, Baxter replied, "And you had better make sure you keep it!"

He flew over the alien ship just in case there was still time. But he saw with a sinking heart that there was not. The gold was spreading over it right at that moment. They were going to have to find the second ship.

Donatello didn't want to look at the sight nearby, but somehow, knowing that they were flying right over it he could not look away. The other Turtles were still down there, of course, just as they had been left. He shut his eyes, turning away.

Baxter set the controls on Auto-Pilot while he reached into his coat for the book. Splinter had already bookmarked the proper pages, so Baxter let the book fall open in the right spot. He frowned, studying the illustration.

"The alien culture seems to have had knowledge of state boundaries," he remarked. "They're drawn into the picture."

"Really?" Donatello looked over.

"They seem to have drawn Utah," Baxter mused. "The mountain peak they're indicating looks like it's in the Northern half of the state, not too far North from the middle."

"Then we're going to Utah," Donatello cried. "And step on it!"

Baxter took control of the glider again. They were still keeping ahead of the gold, but just barely. "We'll only have one chance at this," he said. "There's probably only going to be several minutes leeway at the very most, since the gold will have to travel up a steep mountain."

"We'll make it," Donatello vowed. "We have to."

The trip across the country was very tense. The goose was every bit as uncooperative as before and repeatedly pecked at Donatello's shell, frustrated that it couldn't turn him into gold. Donatello held it firmly, hoping in desperation that it would not get free. There wasn't time to stop and chase it. If it escaped, the world was most likely doomed.

The trip also very quickly grew awkward when neither Donatello nor Baxter was sure how to start a conversation. But the journey was long and cold and the silence only made things worse, so at last one of them decided to attempt it.

"It's ironic," said Donatello.

"What is?" Baxter asked.

"We're the only ones left." Donatello looked out at the cold sky. "We're both scientists and we're both having family problems. I didn't even realize I was having any, though." He sighed. "I guess I've been too caught up in my work lately."

Baxter gave a dark smirk. "While I can't help but notice my family problems. My brother hates me and is trying to be a megalomaniac and our parents just want to hide under a rock and forget about both of us."

Donatello frowned. "Haven't you heard from them at all?"

"No. I know they're alright; I've been secretly watching them in the society news. And before you ask, yes, I _have_ tried reaching out to them. They don't acknowledge me at all."

"I'm sorry," Donatello said, his tone somber. "I've never understood how humans can act like that."

"You really don't like us very much, do you?" Baxter mused, still with the dark smirk.

"There's a lot I don't like about humans, it's true," Donatello admitted. "But there's good people out there. Some of my best friends are humans." He smiled.

Baxter's smirk softened, but he still looked entertained. "I never thought some of my friends would be Turtles."

"I think we were all pretty surprised," Donatello said. "Raphael and me especially. But you've become one of our most loyal and valuable allies."

". . . I wonder if what Barney did will cause new problems between Raphael and myself."

"It's not like you condoned what Barney did," Donatello pointed out.

"I am still angry about what he did," Baxter said quite frankly. "I'll probably never be able to fully eradicate the images from my memory. And yet even that doesn't cause me to completely turn against him. Insane or not, I did things that I later thought were unforgivable. When Barney is walking the same path, I don't see how I can shun him in good conscience."

"I'd probably feel the same way if one of the guys went bad," Donatello admitted. "Of course, they never would. I'm just saying that I can't imagine I'd ever give up on them."

The goose honked in his arms.

"You're lucky that will never be a problem for you." Baxter stared out at the cold December sky. "I wonder what causes some people to have such a compulsion to walk down wrong paths. For me, I don't think it would have happened had I not already snapped from being condemned to the insane asylum. But for people such as Shredder and Krang, they do it willingly and while completely sane. They delight in it."

"And Barney?"

". . . I don't know." Baxter frowned. "He likes feeling wanted, but I think those feelings have started to fade. Mainly I think he likes having the resources to build his inventions. When he acts like he's enjoying suffering, I think it's more that he likes seeing his inventions work."

Donatello sighed. "I'd like to say that I can't understand that at all. But after I got so fascinated by this goose that I didn't even think about the consequences, I guess I can understand . . . kind of." His expression darkened. "I could never understand enjoying watching my invention work so much that I'd happily watch people suffer. I've never deliberately invented something that could hurt anyone."

"Good for you." Baxter looked and sounded tired.

Donatello looked down at the goose as it struggled again. ". . . It's funny how without the others around, I keep thinking of the craziest, most random things. Like Michelangelo falling in my egg-coloring machine and ending up with pastel circles and diamonds painted all over him. He was always curious about my inventions and getting too close to them." He chuckled. "Or Master Splinter trying to teach us the true ninja spirit by repeatedly coming after us in disguise one night. Or Leonardo getting a distress signal and running off to answer it after accidentally causing such a big mess that we thought he'd been in a fight in the Lair. Or Raphael's horrible jokes. I remember how enthused he was after going up against your brother's Gagamagnifier. . . . He started writing a whole lot of awful jokes and we gave him a hard time about it." He leaned back, staring up at the sky. "Remembering things like that, and wondering if I'll ever even hear those stupid jokes again, I wish I'd been nicer about it."

"You'll hear them again," Baxter said quietly. "You'll have all of them back before long now."

"Do you ever think about things like that?" Donatello wondered. Then, chagrined, he asked, ". . . Do you even _have_ any good memories of Barney?"

Baxter gave a half-smirk but quickly sobered. "Unfortunately, the majority of anything good I remember about interacting with Barney is practically the first memory I have of anything at all. I recall us playing on the floor with our toys as children. For some reason, I hugged him. He didn't push me away. But he didn't return it either, come to think of it."

"Barney hated you even when you were kids?" Donatello said sadly.

"Well, it certainly didn't seem to take him long to dislike me," Baxter said with a dark laugh. "I think the actual hate came later."

"And yet you're probably the one person who loves him unconditionally." Donatello frowned.

"He cares about me on some level or he wouldn't keep putting himself in danger for me," Baxter said. "At least . . . I can't think he would. He's never been the type to try to do nice things to atone for himself. He'll do them to cheat, or he'll do them in all sincerity, but he won't try to use them as a Get Into Heaven Free Card." He sighed. "My brother is a very complicated person."

"I think most people are," Donatello said. "But you're right-your brother takes the cake."

Baxter hesitated. "Donatello . . . do you know what happened to the computer?"

"The computer?" Donatello sounded vague and confused.

"The computer that I . . . had."

"Oh." Donatello frowned. "I thought it was gone. I blew up the console it was plugged into. . . ."

"Yes, I know. I just wondered if you knew for certain."

"No, I don't." Donatello ducked a bit of low-hanging cloud. "Once we had the retro-mutagen ray gun, we beat the heck out of there to fix all the damage you caused in the city."

Baxter cringed. "That was when I started turning random people into giant insects?"

"That's right." Donatello looked to him. "You really don't remember much about it, do you?"

"My mind was practically gone then," Baxter said quietly. "The fly had almost complete control. Any part of me that slipped through was more than half-crazed. Once the fly and I were separated at last, I wasn't able to retain many memories created when the fly was taking control." He sighed. "Or maybe that's only partially true. Maybe I'm deliberately blocking some of it. If I am, part of me hopes I never remember."

"Only part of you?"

"As I told Michelangelo once, I feel that I should remember when I caused so much havoc and misery. It feels cowardly to hide from it. Not to mention awkward when others remember and I don't."

". . . Do you remember that your computer helped you cause a lot of that havoc and misery?"

"Of course I do," Baxter retorted. "But it was a machine. You can't expect it to really know right from wrong. It's programmed to do what people want it to do."

"I guess that's probably true," Donatello said slowly. "But artificial intelligence is a sticky topic. Maybe some devices gather so much of it that they start thinking for themselves. And honestly, if any device could, I think your computer would be at the top of the list."

"So you're saying it would basically be alive then."

"Pretty much. I guess." Donatello frowned. "Do you want it back?"

"I just wonder what happened to it." Baxter stared out at the fading light. "Alive or not, it was my only close friend for years."

Donatello looked down. "That's just sad."

Baxter shrugged. "I was used to it."

"It probably sounds like Michelangelo, but no one should have to get used to that," Donatello said.

"Well," Baxter said after a moment of silence, "I won't have to get used to it any more."

"That's true," Donatello smiled a bit. He sobered as he continued, "And I guess if we can't reverse what's happened, we'll be the only living beings on the Earth. At least until we starve from lack of food and water in a golden world."

"We're going to reverse it," Baxter insisted.

Donatello leaned back. "I want to believe that. I keep telling myself that. But so many things could still go wrong." He tightened his grip on the goose as it struggled again.

"Of course they could. But we will overcome them because we must."

". . . You know, I never thought I'd be getting encouragement from Baxter Stockman, of all people."

"And I never thought I'd be giving it, so we're . . ." Baxter trailed off, frowning.

"What is it?" Donatello asked.

"Nothing." Baxter sighed. "I was just about to say 'we're even.' But that's what Barney said regarding our trying to help each other."

"And I guess he's not joking when he says it," Donatello said.

"No. It's possible he doesn't really mean it, but I don't know."

They lapsed into silence again for a while.

"We're coming up on Utah now," Baxter announced at long last. "The map appears to match that section of the Rocky Mountains down there."

"And I think I see the ship!" Donatello cried. "Take us down; the gold is still just right behind us!"

Baxter needed no coaxing. He brought the Blimp down on the snow-covered peak and leaped off, dashing towards the ship. Donatello followed, only taking a split-second to catch the name Mt. Nebo on a plaque at the summit before rushing after his fellow scientist.

Baxter was already frantically entering a color code from the book on the ship's buttons. "We're lucky this one wasn't under the ground," he remarked as the door slid open. He ran inside while continuing to study the book, which illustrated the interior of the ship and where to go to take the goose. He followed the directions but moved too fast; he stumbled and almost tripped before righting himself. "It's in here!" he called, stopping in front of a closed door with blinking red and green panels.

"It's locked!" Donatello cried in dismay. The goose struggled, violently flapping its wings. "Hey!"

"The book tells the code to unlock it," Baxter said.

"Well, hurry up!" Donatello exclaimed. "I don't think I can hold onto this bird much longer!"

Quickly Baxter pressed the panels back and forth in the order the book depicted. At last both went green and the door slid upward. Inside was a pool of water. Geese were carved on every wall.

"Throw it in the pool!" he yelled to Donatello, who was coming as fast as he could but was slowed by the insistence of the goose to break away.

"The gold's right behind me!" Donatello practically flew into the room. The gold was, indeed, right on his heels. As he stopped to throw the goose into the pool, it came over his feet.

The goose honked, flapping its wings and flying above the pool. Baxter leaped on the rim of the pool and grabbed for it, pulling it back down. "Get in the water," he hissed. He gasped as the gold reached the edge of the pool and his shoes.

A fountain of water splooshed up when the goose went down. With a flash of light it was inanimate and golden once again. The liquid gold began to recede. Baxter fell backwards, crashing on the floor. Donatello yelped as he fell forward likewise.

"We did it!" Donatello exclaimed, pushing himself up. "Everything's going to be okay!"

"Every _one_ is going to be okay," Baxter said joyfully, wincing as he sat up.

Donatello knelt up, smiling at his friend. "I couldn't have done it without you," he said sincerely.

"Likewise," said Baxter. "We made a good team."

Donatello got up. "Let's go home. Maybe we'll be there by the time the gold recedes in New York."

Baxter nodded. "We should be, if we hurry."

xxxx

The Turtle Blimp pulled in at the hangar just as the gold was reaching that area. Donatello and Baxter watched in awe and amazement as the coating left Splinter and he stumbled, surprised and stunned to be free. Moments later, April and Irma were likewise released.

"Master Splinter!" Donatello called, rushing out to meet them. "April! Irma!"

Baxter followed, not sure what to say but joyous all the same.

"You did it," Splinter smiled at Donatello and then at Baxter.

"We did," Donatello smiled back.

". . . So hours just passed?" Irma said in confusion as she got up.

"I guess so," April said, looking around in bewilderment. "It's evening!"

"Let us go back to the city," Splinter encouraged. "The others will be reviving soon."

Donatello nodded. He definitely wanted to be there. But there was one stop they needed to make before they got back to the construction site.

xxxx

Baxter rushed into the Channel 6 building as the gold swept away from it. They weren't sure that those who had been turned before the goose's final transformation would be restored now, but he was hoping, even praying, that it would be so.

He arrived at the office floor just as a loud thump sounded against the closed door. "Barney?" he called cautiously, hopefully.

The door opened and a dazed Barney stumbled out. "You must have returned the goose," he greeted. "But why did it take so long? It's dark outside!"

"We had to take it to a second ship," Baxter replied. He came closer. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." Barney sighed. "I'm sorry about what happened. I suppose in a way, it was my fault. It was my temper that caused the Turtles to get hold of the goose in the first place. If I hadn't snapped, Krang's original plan would have gone ahead. And he never intended for things to get this bad."

Baxter's shoulders slumped. "Then you're still going back to the Technodrome."

"I am, for now." Barney hesitated, almost looking as though he might rest a hand on Baxter's shoulder. But then, thinking differently about it, he just walked past instead.

". . . I thought you were going to throw me to the goose," Baxter confessed. "Instead you saved me."

". . . I considered throwing you to the goose," Barney said, not looking back. "But only because I knew there was a way to reverse the effects of the gold. I wanted to be the one to get the goose back." He sighed, looking out at the elevators without really seeing them. "In the end, I couldn't do it. I've hurt you throughout our lives and I'm still hurting you now. I didn't want to add to it."

"I'm grateful," Baxter said in some surprise.

"You saved me as well. We're still even." Barney headed for the elevators.

"I'm not keeping score," Baxter called after him.

Barney shrugged. When the elevator arrived, he stepped inside and pushed the button. He turned to look at Baxter as the doors closed, but didn't speak.

Baxter sighed to himself. Barney was still making bad choices, but Baxter couldn't stop him from it. Now he had to hurry to get back to the construction site.

xxxx

The others had already gone on ahead in the Turtle Van. Since Baxter's car was at the site, he took a news van. As he pulled up, he was just in time to see the gold receding from each of the three captive Turtles.

"Whoa," Michelangelo stumbled and blinked, rubbing the back of his head. "Maximum confusion. What happened?!"

"Barney turned you to gold," Donatello said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Oh yeah?" Michelangelo frowned. "Is Baxter alright? I remember he was there. . . ."

"I'm alright," Baxter said as he approached. "He spared me."

Raphael was freed in time to hear that. "Well, wonder of wonders," he grunted. He looked to Baxter. "I'll warn you now, Baxter, I won't forgive your brother for what he did."

"I know," Baxter said. "And I don't blame you. It was an abominable thing to do." He paused. "But I hope this won't cause any further problems between you and I."

"You're okay, Baxter," Raphael replied. "It's your brother I can't stand. I knew he was a crumb when he hit you with a crowbar. Someone who would do that to family would do almost anything to anyone. Maybe if he turns his life around like you have, I'll give him whatever benefit of a doubt I gave you when I wasn't sure about you." His eyes narrowed. "But I don't think that'll ever happen. Your brother's rotten to the core."

Leonardo's release prevented Baxter's response. The blue-masked Turtle nearly fell on the ground from having been in a running position. "Yikes!" He wobbled.

"Careful, Leonardo," Splinter cautioned, reaching to steady him.

"Thanks, Master Splinter." Leonardo sheathed his katanas. "So what's going on? Is everything alright now?"

"It sure is now," Donatello declared.

"Welcome back, my sons," Splinter said, the emotions coming into his voice. "You are all safe and back to normal. It couldn't be more alright than that for us."

"It's so good to see you all moving and talking again!" April exclaimed.

"Yeah," Irma agreed. "That was just too creepy."

"It sure didn't feel very good, either," Leonardo said.

"Guys . . ." Donatello looked to each of them. "I'm really sorry that I've been so caught up in my work lately. And I'm sorry that all this happened when we'd already planned on doing something nice today."

"Hey, it's not your fault that Bebop and Rocksteady found that goose," Michelangelo said. "That had to be top priority. You were right."

"But _you_ were right that I was too wrapped up in being excited about it," Donatello said. "I still want to make everything up to you. Why don't we have our fun day tomorrow?"

"That's great with us," Leonardo smiled.

"Yeah," said Raphael. "We'll get some pizzas, chill out in front of the TV, maybe rent some good horror flicks. . . ."

"Or maybe some Westerns this time," Donatello said. "Maybe even a surfing movie." He shuddered. "This day has been horror enough for several lifetimes."

"That's cool with me, Dude," Michelangelo chirped. "Hey, I'm even down with watching a Western. Just as long as we all do it together."

"Yes," said Splinter. "That is the most important thing."

Baxter agreed. As he turned away, he wondered if he and Barney would ever share that kind of togetherness. He had to admit that it really didn't seem very likely.

"Hey, Baxter?"

He turned in some surprise at Michelangelo's voice.

"I'm sorry you had to be there and see what your brother did to me. I saw you right before I . . . well, couldn't see anything. You looked mondo shook."

"I was," Baxter admitted. "Both because you are my friend and because my brother was hurting you." He paused. "I don't know if you'll believe it. . . . I'm sure Raphael won't. . . . But he was very insistent that you weren't dead and he knew it could be reversed. He wouldn't have done it otherwise. It's complicated, but my brother is not a murderer, nor does he want to be."

"You don't have to tell me, Dude," Michelangelo answered. "I know that. I'm not happy about what he did, but I'm sure glad it _could_ be reversed." He paused. "But you're right that Raphael won't see it that way. He's protective and all. He won't forgive easy for this."

Baxter nodded. "And I don't blame him."

"Well . . . anyway, thanks for everything you did." Michelangelo smiled. "Donatello and Master Splinter and you really came through for us."

"We did our best," Baxter said. He wouldn't go into the details of what had happened. Donatello and Splinter could do that themselves, if they so chose.

"It was gnarly!" Michelangelo proclaimed.

That prompted a bit of an amused smile. "You don't even know what was done."

"I know it fixed things up," Michelangelo said. "And that's the most important thing."

"That's right," Leonardo said as he came over. "All of you made an excellent team." He smiled at Donatello. "And we're all very grateful."

Donatello smiled back. "I wasn't going to let you guys down again if I could help it."

"And you most definitely did not," Splinter said. "I knew we would still be safe with you and Dr. Stockman working to restore order."

Raphael shot a look at Splinter. "Wait a minute. You weren't there, Sensei?"

"Unfortunately, no," Splinter admitted. "The gold took everyone except Donatello and Dr. Stockman by the end."

Donatello shuddered. The memories of that wouldn't leave him any time soon.

"Maximum bummer," Michelangelo said sympathetically, looking to Donatello.

"It was awful," Donatello said. "Seeing April and Irma get it, and then Master Splinter. . . ." But he smiled sincerely as he continued, "I couldn't have got the goose back all on my own. I'm really glad Baxter was with me."

"I'm glad as well," Baxter said. "It was a team effort."

Irma smiled. "I love a happy ending. The only thing that could make this one better is a date."

April regarded her in amusement. "That's always the top thing on your mind, Irma."

"So sue me!" Irma shrugged. "I still dream of true love!"

"Right now, I'm just dreaming of what a scoop this story will make!" April exclaimed. "I'd better hurry and start filming or we won't be in time for the news!" She hurried to the Turtle Van to get her camera.

Raphael watched her go. "You know, it's comforting to know that in this ever-changing world, some things will always be the same."

"Like pizza!" Michelangelo chimed in.

"I was thinking more of family," said Splinter. "And friendship, loyalty, and courage."

"I'm down with that!" Michelangelo chirped. "And we've got plenty of all of it! . . . But can we get a pizza anyway?"

"Sounds great to me," said Raphael.

"And me," said Leonardo.

"Hey, we all deserve it," Donatello said.

"I'll call Vinnie's!" Michelangelo made a beeline for the Turtle Van too.

Everyone laughed. It felt good to have something to laugh about again.

xxxx

Krang and Shredder listened, glowering, as Barney, Bebop, and Rocksteady very briefly explained what had happened on the surface.

"I don't even know where this second ship is," Barney concluded. "Baxter very wisely chose not to tell me. But after all this, I would hope that you will not plan to use this method again."

"I don't plan on it," Krang grunted. "The, uh, Technodrome wasn't as gold-proof as I thought."

"I knew it was a stupid plan from the beginning," Shredder growled.

"Well, nevermind!" Krang snapped. "We'll find something else."

"Not tonight, I would hope," Barney said haughtily. "I want to get some sleep."

"Yes, yes, go to sleep." Krang waved an arm at him in a bored manner.

Barney departed, grateful to be able to retreat to his laboratory.

He took out the computer motherboard once he was safely locked inside. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," said the computer. "Is Baxter alright?"

"Yes." Barney turned away, crossing to the cot at the opposite end of the room. ". . . I almost betrayed him today. But in the end I chose not to." He frowned. "Although what I did to that Turtle could probably be considered a form of betrayal as well."

"What did you do?"

"I turned him to gold when we were fighting over the goose. Baxter witnessed the entire thing."

"He surely realizes that as long as you're on opposite sides, you will most likely hurt his friends."

"He might know that in his mind. But you didn't see the look in his eyes." Barney clenched a fist. "I don't want to see that look again."

"How are you going to avoid it?"

"I don't know," Barney sighed.

". . . Are you ever going to tell him about me?"

"I don't know that, either." Barney looked back. "He never talks about you. Then again, I'm sure he wouldn't, to me. Maybe I'll tell him the next time we meet." He removed his glasses and laid down.

"Maybe," said the computer, but it sounded noncommittal.

"You don't believe me," Barney remarked.

"You never do what you don't want to do," the computer said. "You don't want to tell Baxter. Therefore, you won't."

Barney scowled. "I wonder," he muttered. "I didn't want to turn his friend to gold, especially with him there watching, but I did it anyway."

"Why?"

"I thought I'd lose that blasted goose if I didn't."

"Did you tell Baxter?"

"No. He realized I didn't want to do it." Barney rolled over to face the wall. "Baxter's still a fool. He believes in me too much."

"He loves you."

"And when have I ever given him reason to? I've hurt him almost from the moment I could think independent thoughts."

"And yet you have repeatedly put yourself in harm's way for him."

" _I_ don't understand myself or my behavior. I don't expect _you_ to."

"Let me ask you something, Barney. How do you feel about yourself?"

"I hate myself," Barney answered without hesitation.

"Then why do you continually put yourself in a position where you will go on hating yourself? Wouldn't it be more logical to get out before you do something that really is irreparable?"

"Yes, it would," Barney agreed. "But when am I ever logical about matters other than science and technology?" He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

"Now that you mention it, illogic seems to run in your family."

That brought a laugh. "That's one way of putting it."

The computer fell silent. "When you were covered in gold, what was it like? Were you alive? Were you dead?"

"I wasn't dead," Barney replied. "I could still think. Maybe that is the true punishment for the dead and damned: they can think but never act on it, no matter how much they may want to."

"You can be very philosophical when you want to, Barney."

A shrug. "Which is never when it really counts. I'm going to sleep now. Maybe this whole mess will look better in the morning."

"The morning won't change it."

"No, but my approach may change after some decent sleep." Barney draped an arm over his eyes. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," said the computer.


End file.
